by Diksha Basu
‘No. But I’m dying to know. Tell, tell.’
‘I killed two eagles with one rock at that jam session … when I met Vishal. Not only am I obviously sleeping with him but he’s given me the exact kind of work I wanted. I’m writing lyrics for the ads he does music for.’
‘You’re writing lyrics? How? You hardly speak Hindi.’
‘So? Don’t you watch TV? Most of the lyrics are in English. The Hindi ones are all remixed old songs. They don’t need new lyrics for that. Half the ad directors are expats.’
‘How is that the kind of work you wanted? I thought you wanted to cut an album.’
‘Eventually, you fool. But I’ve got to start somewhere, and this is perfect.’
‘That does sound great. And he’s nice! I actually really like him.’
‘Right? I feel like I’ve known him for ages,’ Jess said proudly.
‘More importantly, now that you’re going to be making money doing this stuff, how about getting me that copy-editing work? I’m completely running out of money.’
‘How are you running out of money already? What are you spending on?’
‘Nothing. I’m not spending on anything. But I do have to pay rent and eat. And drink. But, I haven’t even got my hair blow-dried in the last two months. That’s how poor I’m getting.’
‘Rent? Just make Jay pay your rent. Why should you worry about that?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t be stupid. Copy-editing might allow you to drink coffee out once or twice a week but it won’t pay your rent.’
‘It paid yours.’
‘Are you really that stupid? That did not pay my rent. Zafar did.’
‘Who?’
‘Zafar. The man who pays my rent. Well, used to pay it. Now I’ll be making money.’
‘What? Why would he just pay your rent? Who is he?’
‘He’s a producer who’s got a lot of money,’ Jess said casually.
‘A lot of people have a lot of money. They don’t just pay your rent, though.’
‘Obviously … Do I really need to spell this out for you? He had a thing for me and in the months that I didn’t have enough to make rent, he’d help me out in exchange,’ she said.
‘In exchange for … you?’
‘Yeah. Well, sometimes. Not always, though. He actually liked my company most of the times. Get that stupid judgmental look off your face. It is not that big a deal.’
‘How is it not? How is it not prostitution?’
‘Prostitution? God, you are so fucking close-minded sometimes. Weren’t you the one who was bragging about how Jay won’t let you even see the bill? How is that any different?’
‘It is. It just is. This is Jay. I’m dating him. I like sleeping with him.’
‘You are not dating him. Shut up. You are sleeping with him and in exchange, he’s paying for your dinners and drinks. I was sleeping with Zaf and he was paying my rent. At least in my case, I wasn’t blind to what was going on. You’re really kind of pathetic on your little moral high horse, you know.’
‘But I like sleeping with Jay,’ I protested weakly.
‘Yes, well, Naiya, Zaf might not have Jay’s abs but he’s a nice guy. So stop judging me.’
She was right. I wasn’t there to judge. Nor to confront questions about my dynamics with Jay. I was there because my friend had good news and wanted to share it with me. Fortunately, Jess was too happy about the Vishal situation to be offended by my having called her a prostitute. I’m pretty sure I would have slapped me. I tried to get us back to where we started.
‘Sorry. You’re right, you’re right. And anyway, it’s in the past now. Tell me more about Vishal, though. What kind of ads does he do?’
While Jess rambled on about Vishal, truth be told, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She was getting from Vishal exactly what I had been trying desperately to get from Jay – a relationship and a career. By now, in fact, all I wanted was the career and I wasn’t even managing to get that out of him.
Jess said sweetly, ‘Listen, let’s all four of us get a drink some time. I’m sure Jay and Vishal would have a lot in common. And I feel I haven’t really given him a chance. I thought he would hurt you, but it looks like I might have been wrong. Sameer Bhatia’s a big deal. This could change your life. And it’s thanks to Jay, right? I owe him another chance.’
I smiled weakly. I didn’t want to talk about the horridness of my relationship. It felt like a failure and I found it best to keep up appearances. I always thought that if everyone else thought everything was perfect, everything would be … at least until everything blew up in your face.
I allowed Jess to gush for a little while longer and then got up to sail into Sameer’s office. I thought about going the whole distance with hair and make-up and clothes so I would look like Seher and Sonal had that night of the fashion launch, but decided against it. I didn’t want to look into the mirror and see the same hollow woman who had looked back at me at the Lokhandwala auditions. I didn’t mind being that person at night, at a party, but to do it in the middle of the day for a meeting in Bandra was just too much of a departure from my life and I had sold enough of my soul already. Mascara and lip gloss were going to have to suffice.
Namit, surprisingly, was even more annoying face-to-face than he had been on the phone. He had shaggy, messy hair and was wearing a fedora. Fedoras belong to the pages of GQ and the runways of New York Fashion Week and absolutely nowhere else. With that and a V-necked T-shirt that was cut down to his navel, Namit was a hipster gone wrong.
As soon as I walked in, he said, ‘Naiya, right? Okay, listen, first thing is that you need to have a portfolio. Where are your pictures? You should have dropped them off in advance.’
‘Why? Sameer’s met me. He knows what I look like.’
‘Uff. As if that’s all. What if you’re ugly on camera? Then?’
‘Right. Anyway, I thought I was meeting Sameer.’
‘You are, but I’m trying to give you some helpful advice. I see girls like you all the time.’
‘Well, thanks for the advice but could you just let Sameer know I’m here?’
‘Yeah. And you really can’t show up for director meetings in jeans with no make-up. Presentation is everything.’
‘So, should I go in?’ I asked.
‘No. You sit there. If you have some make-up in your bag, it won’t kill you to put it on while you wait.’
‘Come, come, Naiya. So good to see you again. Finally. Namit, get Naiya some … tea, coffee, what would you like, Naiya?’ Sameer asked in a booming voice as he came out of the back room of the office.
I looked over at Namit, smiled victoriously and said, ‘I’ll take some coffee, please. With no sugar. And a glass of water. Thanks so much, Namit.’
‘Naiya, darling, sit. Now, first tell me, do you mind if I tape this conversation? Just with a handheld camera. We’ll leave it on the table and you can just ignore it. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, of course. But I’m not really dressed up or anything.’
‘Good. Better that way. I don’t want to see something rehearsed. I just want to see you on camera.’
With that, Sameer placed his handheld camera on his desk, pressed a button, sat back down and said, ‘Now, tell me about yourself first. What you do, where you come from, why acting, why Bombay. Tell me everything.’
I glanced at the red light from the rolling camera staring at me. It comforted me, felt like a friend, and I found myself telling Sameer and the camera everything, trying to be as succinct as possible because people who ask such questions are rarely interested in the answers. He was, though. He listened intently. For the first time in ages, I found myself telling someone about my mother’s death. I realized that I hadn’t even mentioned it to Jay. Sameer just listened. Actually listened. When I finished, he nodded, got up to the camera and looked into the small screen while saying, ‘I saw the pain in your eyes. All Jay had said was that you’re an actor and a model, but that n
ight, at Sayali’s launch, I saw something else in you. Something that would be very interesting to explore.’
That last line was the kind umpteen sleazy men in Bombay would say but from him, it was genuine. He continued, ‘Your face is interesting on camera. You’re unconventional. Do you dance?’
‘I do. I took Odissi classes for eight years and I’ve always been a big Bollywood fan.’
He laughed. ‘Good, good. That’s half the battle won, then. Jay didn’t tell me anything. But with all this, you’ll do well here.’
‘It hasn’t been that easy, unfortunately. I’ve had a lot of … well, a lot of bad luck,’ I said.
‘No such thing as bad luck, darling. Just things that you have to laugh about later instead of immediately.’
He narrated the synopsis. I told him all about my theatre background. We laughed about how many aspiring actresses have portfolio pictures in which they were so coated in make-up that you could never tell what they actually looked like. It was a director–actress match made in heaven.
The movie was about a shrewd young woman from a small town in Punjab who falls in love with Bombay and Bollywood, and is determined to be a star. She moves to Bombay with no connections, and lies and schemes and claws her way to the top. Unlike a lot of Bollywood movies, this one belonged to the female lead. She was vicious, she was clever, she was manipulative and I loved her! Throw in about eleven song-and-dance sequences, a bankable leading man, a big publicity budget, decent cinematography and editing, and there was a guaranteed hit on our hands. The whole synopsis, while not hugely inspiring, did sound an awful lot like my past few months. I’d be able to do it justice.
Still determined to be the driver of my life, I said to Sameer explicitly, ‘So is there a screenplay I could read? Or are you going to have auditions? How does it work from here?’
‘Naiya, see, the thing is this – your face works for the kind of character I have in mind. But I didn’t hear from you for very long. I asked Jay to give Namit your phone number. Nothing. So, I’ve got a girl whom I’m already considering for the part. She’s good but not perfect. But this, after all, is a producers’ game and the producers like her. She’s already a bit of a name. Please don’t mind, huh? I am only being honest with you.’
‘Sameer, I’ve been trying to contact you. Jay didn’t …’
I stopped myself. The blame game was never charming. He continued, looking genuinely distressed, ‘Something about you, Naiya, for me, works. I think it is, like I was saying, the eyes. But this is film – there’s no such thing as a perfect actor, no? There are perfect stars who sell the movie, but the performer himself is changeable. So what I’ll tell you is this: nobody has committed to anything yet. Not I, not the producers. I will fight your fight and let us see what happens? Is that okay with you?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course. I appreciate you telling me everything. Anything, of course, that I can do to help, I would be happy to. Maybe send you my demo reel or something.’
‘Send send. Send everything. The more you send, the more I can fight for you. And Jay too. He is on the team as a creative consultant. So don’t worry, okay? I’ve got you on camera now anyway. And always, if not this movie, there will be more. I will be doing more. And your face works.’
I smiled but I didn’t want to do other movies. I wanted to do this one. What was the point of waiting for his next film? What if I died by the time his next film went on the floors? Still, there wasn’t much more I could say as I took leave of Sameer.
My phone buzzed as I was walking out of Sameer’s office. Jay. I rejected. Why had he not given my information to Sameer? I didn’t know until just then that he was one of the creative consultants on the team. This just made things that much more complicated.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Naiya!
You’re terrible at replying to texts. I’m dying to know how your meeting with Sameer went.
We started previews for the play and it’s going pretty well. James has been really supportive and loving. The director’s not the most fun and it has been kind of a high-pressure thing, but James has been incredible. He did the whole flowers-in-the-dressing-room bit. Not just flowers but also a whole stack of white chocolate! And he’s already been to watch the show thrice and has been helping get the word out. It’s just so nice to be able to come home to him at night. It has been brilliant but exhausting. For once I’m really appreciating having someone to come home to. Anyway, I know I’m preaching to the converted. How’s Jay?
And tell me more about Sameer’s film. What’s it about?
Love,
Nal
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Nal,
Glad the previews have started. Break a leg on opening night!
Things are going well here. Jay’s been really sweet but I’m starting to feel a bit suffocated. He showed up here the other morning and made me breakfast. It was really nice of him and everything, but I like to be by myself in the mornings. He’s beginning to get a bit clingy and I think it might have to end. I really need to focus on my career right now. And, though he’s helping me, I think it’s better, image-wise, to be single. I also think he really needs to focus on getting his movie rolling now. The script really isn’t very good right now and I’m worried that if I stick around with him, I’ll be roped in to play the female lead in his film, and that would be a very unsuitable debut!
Things are up in the air about Sameer’s film right now. It’s a slow process but I’m keeping at it. So let’s see.
Love,
Naiya
Naiya Kapur will never enjoy gardening. on Monday x
It’s hard enough to figure out your love life when it stands alone. Love mixed with just about anything can prove to be catastrophic. My Happily Ever After dreams were mingling with Red Carpet ones, leaving me a confused mess. I wanted to get my thoughts together before I contacted Jay, and so that evening, after my meeting with Sameer, I kept ignoring his calls. Instead, I got home and poured myself a generous four-finger serving of vodka on the rocks. I needed courage.
Jess came out of her room to make herself a cup of coffee and I went and hoisted myself up on the kitchen counter next to her. There was nothing like a tall glass of vodka and a girly heart-to-heart to help put things into perspective.
‘Vodka on the rocks at five? Impressive,’ Jess said. I nodded and offered her one.
‘You know what,’ Jess said, ‘go ahead and pour me one. I need to celebrate. Have you seen the Pantene ad? The one on the golf course?’
‘No. Unlike you, I don’t have a fancy TV in my room. That was Zafar too, wasn’t it? The TV?’
‘It was Zaf. I haven’t spoken to him in a while. I should call him,’ Jess said.
‘What were you saying about the Pantene ad?’
‘Well, they’re doing a series of four more ads in that same sort of genre and it’s going to sell to a bunch of different countries, which means a lot of money. And guess who’s writing all the lyrics?’
‘That’s impressive. So I take it things are good with Vishal?’
‘Brilliant. He’s doing a comedy music spoof for Channel V that I might script too. How’ve you been? How was the audition?’
‘It was pretty good. I guess there’s one other girl who’s up for the role, but nothing’s final. Sameer seems to like me. I really need work. I contacted one of those copy-editing people you told me about, but the work is awful and they pay shit. How did you manage to do it? It doesn’t seem worth it.’
‘It isn’t. I told you that from the start.’
‘But what do I do then? I really need money.’
‘What’s happening with Jay’s film?’
‘Ha. God knows. He just brushes it off whenever I bring it up. Besides, like you pointed out, we’re just sleeping together.’
‘Oh would you relax. Unbunch your granny panties. I didn’t mean to be offensive
that day. I was just making a point.’
‘I know. And a valid one. We don’t have a future. I keep trying to turn it into something it’s not.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I like him, I guess.’
‘No you don’t. You don’t even know if you like him because you don’t really know him. Come on. You like the idea of him. You like the idea of running into the sunset with a good-looking rich man. Shh. Don’t pretend you don’t. Don’t feed me bullshit about him being intelligent … because he isn’t. I humour you, Naiya, but from what you’ve told me, he’s just Googled French philosophy to impress you and it worked. It’s pathetic. The man reads Malcolm Gladwell, for god’s sake. Do not even try to tell me it’s an intellectual connection. Unless you’re also trying to tell me that you’re stupid.’
I was taken aback. Though Jess always spoke with a great matter-of-factness, this shook me.
‘You’re being unfair. He’s a nice guy,’ I said.
‘I’m sure he is. Keep dating him casually but stop pretending it’s something bigger. You’re just going to end up getting hurt.’
‘It could be something bigger.’
‘What? What could it be? A marriage? Kids? You think Jay could be your little Happily Ever After?’
‘Why not?’
‘Mostly because that doesn’t exist. Happily Ever After simply means a fifty per cent chance of divorce.’
‘Don’t be so cynical. What about you and Vishal?’
‘It’s the exact opposite of cynical. I’m realistic. I believe in living happily now, and not bothering about the phantom that is “Ever After”. If you like being around someone, be around them. And if you don’t, don’t. It’s simple, really,’ Jess said.
‘But—’
‘No buts. You know I’m making a valid point. You’re just scared to admit it because you’ve always been so straight-laced. Don’t keep trying to define everything and box everything up into little compartments. If you’re using him, use him. In fact, use him with pride. New-age feminism.’ Jess smiled, obviously proud of her reasoning.